


it starts with cupid shuffle and ends with what

by powdermilkrory



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bisexual Female Character, F/F, Fem!Harry, Fem!Louis, Femslash, Girl Direction, No Smut, POV Female Character, alcohol? is that a tag?, cisgender harry, cisgender louis, fem one direction, girl!Harry, girl!Louis, i know i'm writing another girl direction fic please don't hate me, idk how to do tags comment and let me know what to do if i suck thanks, sexuality realization, tom holland - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 19:16:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15892386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/powdermilkrory/pseuds/powdermilkrory
Summary: “Hi,” Lou had said, simply as if that moment wasn’t going to change Harry’s life. And it did. Like it so did. Because now flash forward to tonight where Lou looks absolutely stunning again in her black ripped skinny jeans and it’s almost like nothing has changed except it has, it totally has because now they’ve got 7 years of friendship between them. About eight hundred sleepovers, truth or dares, never-have-I-evers, Tom Holland drinking games, shared showers after swimming in Harry’s pool and secrets, so many secrets.or the one where harry realizes some things about her best friend louis in the form of a flash back.





	it starts with cupid shuffle and ends with what

**Author's Note:**

> apologies for the typos my dudes, i'm posting this on a whim and grammarly is not as helpful as it claims to be. enjoy.

Harry is not watching her best friend dance with the intensity of an owl, quiet and wide-eyed. She definitely is not. And she definitely is not wondering where she learned how to dance like that. And she is certainly not thinking about getting up and dancing with her.

 

She sits on her hands because, strangely enough, they want to… touch her? Niall sits next to her, pouring back drinks like it's her job (granted it kinda is- she’s irish).

 

“You gonna dance with Lou, Harry?” Niall asks, Irish accent curling between the vowels and curving them around her tongue. Harry suddenly feels skittish and uneasy and fidgety. Her hands are sweating, her heart’s in her throat making her feel like the lump in her throat will cause tears. Her stomach has become a butterfly enclosure, they’re fluttering all about, tickling her insides and causing her to squirm uncomfortably. Niall hits her arm when she doesn’t respond. 

 

“Why?” Harry asks, defensively. 

 

“Uh- don’t get all pissy, princess. You always dance, chill out,” Niall tosses her hair over her shoulder and takes another drink. “What’s your problem, mate? Y’alright?” Niall follows up. She’s always been abrasively motherly. Harry nods solemnly, her bottom lip slipping out as she pouts. Niall flicks her lip and Harry rolls her eyes in retaliation. She takes another drink and says, “Lou looks nice tonight, right?” 

Niall nods vigorously. 

 

“Right fit, that one is,” Niall responds, slurping from her cup afterward. Harry rolls her eyes yet again. 

 

“Why ya ask?” Niall asks. Harry shrugs and looks sorrowfully into her cup. She forces her eyes to stay where they are, trained solely on the bubbles along the sides of the solo cup.

 

“I dunno,” Harry says, words distorted and muffled through her solo cup.

“Should go dance with her,” Niall suggests, gesturing with her drink to where Lou is animatedly grinding against one of their close friends. Both are laughing, clearly mocking some of the more… expressive dancers on the floor. Inexplicably, Harry’s hand clenches into a fist, shoulder blades tensing beneath her shirt as an uncomfortable prickly feeling graces the tops of her shoulders and under her arms. Her chest seems to constrict, ribs folding in on themselves like origami. The girl grabs onto Lou’s hips and Harrys’s body seems to move on its own, standing up abruptly and almost knocking Niall’s drink out of her hand.

“Oh! Oops, sorry- sorry,” Harry rushes to steady Niall’s hand who staring without amusement while Harry fusses. 

 

“Shut up, ya big oaf, go dance,” Niall huffs, shooing her away. Harry becomes a shy, shuffling, stumbling mess walking over to where Lou is raising her cup in the air, shouting along. Lou finally notices Harry when the former flicks her fringe out of her eyes, smiling until the crinkles in her eyes appear.

 

“Haz!” she shouts, eyes widening with excitement and voice rising above all the music.

“Hazzy Haz, Harry,” she sings, making her way over to the giggling girl, who’s pigeon-toed feet are pointing inward and shoulders hunched to make her shorter. Everyone on the dance floor is stumbling into Harry, alcohol making boundaries blurry, but people just step to the side for Lou. There is a clear path forming where everyone steps back to take a look at the beautiful girl making her way on through. It’s not significantly noticeable, not archetypal like Moses parting the Red Sea, but she doesn’t have to say excuse me, doesn’t even have to shoulder past anyone, and Harry, noticing everything, notices. 

 

“Why didn’t you come dance with me sooner?” she asks, brow furrowing and lip peeking out, mocking a frown. She reaches out and pushes Harry’s shoulders back, making her stand up straight. Harry watches as Lou smiles satisfactorily when Harry straightens out. She’s less insecure now that Lou is here. 

 

“Hmm?” Lou prompts, referring to her question. Harry shrugs again and brings her cup to her mouth, diverting her eyes from Lou’s blue ones to the almost empty cup in her hand. 

 

“Well, you’re here now, and you’re dancing with me. Sorry,” she shrugs, “I don’t make the rules,” she shrugs, smiling mischievously at Harry as she reaches out to grab her hand and pull her into the middle of the dance floor. 

 

Cupid Shuffle begins to play, a familiar  _ mmmm _ roaring around the club. Lou screams with joy, squishing Harry's face between her palms “I love this song!” she screams.

“THEY SAY I’M A RAPPER BUT I SAY NO” the bar sings, with Lou’s voice the loudest of them all, breaking and shrieking obnoxiously.  

 

And then Harry’s launched into memories of the first night they met. The middle school dance where Lou was the life of the party, black ripped skinny jeans and a black polo with roses on the collar when everyone else was wearing dresses and slacks. Harry was sitting on the bleachers with a cup of punch held in both hands. Her piano fingers, long and bony had stretched over the dixie cup (she lacked the coordination to play piano, but at least she had the fingers for it). She’d been dancing with Niall (the only person she actually cared about at that dance, she’d tell Harry later) before she’d gone to the punch bowl, where Harry was nervously refilling her cup for the eighth time that evening. 

 

The opening notes of Cupid Shuffle played, sending a group of eighth graders yelling, startling Harry into spinning around in fear, spilling punch all over an unsuspecting Lou who had just come over to get a drink.

 

“Oops!” Harry had squeaked, barely audible over the music and eyes wide with fear. Embarrassment paralyzed her, with her social awkwardness no help to the situation. Lou only chuckled, holding her shirt away from her chest and flicked her fringe out of her eyes. Harry’s eyes shifted at Lou’s chuckle, finally meeting Lou’s blue eyes.

“Hi,” Lou had said, simply as if that moment wasn’t going to change Harry’s life. And it did. Like it so did. Because now flash forward to tonight where Lou looks absolutely stunning again in her black ripped skinny jeans and it’s almost like nothing has changed except it has, it totally has because now they’ve got 7 years of friendship between them. About eight hundred sleepovers, truth or dares, never-have-I-evers, Tom Holland drinking games, shared showers after swimming in Harry’s pool and secrets, so many secrets. 

 

And that one time that Lou casually came out to Harry as bi, scared out of her wits, but not showing even a little.

Harry had, of course, been tripping over herself to support her, and give her all the love, affection and assurance she needed. She’d even thanked Lou for sharing such an important part of herself with Harry. Lou probably knows more about Harry than Harry knows about herself (the resident knowing smirk on Lou’s face is only slightly creepy). 

And she’s looking at Harry with the resident smirk, the smirk she always gets when Harry smiles at her. She’s screaming the lyrics and it’s like the first night they met except now with eight hundred pounds of history between them, and she’s looking in her eyes it’s- something has shifted. And it’s not _ohmygod i’m gonna be friends with this girl for the rest of my life,_  it’s _ohmygod i’ve loved this girl all my life how haven’t i noticed, she’s right here and she’s perfect and she loves me and how did i miss that?_ It’s a whole whirlwind of friggin memories like a friggin montage of moments like a friggin movie and _how did i not notice before all the love that is here where have i been?_  chasing  _after boys when she’s been right here the whole time?_  The entire time Harry knew Lou, even after she came out, she never dated any girls. This is all in a nano-second, almost not even realization, it’s more like a memory coming to surface. Like, remembering a dream when you see someone’s face. How did she not see it before? 

 

Lou looks at her, and she must see something in Harry’s face (there’s got to be a thousand things going on on there;  her whole world has just shifted) because she smiles. She’s confused, but she smiles with a quick tilt to the head.

 

“What?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for checking it out dudes. i know i kind of left you hanging. lo siento my dudes, pero i will finish it if you want me to.


End file.
